One Night at a Time
by the.eye.does.not.SEE
Summary: [Preseries] Pre-Jane gets back from a tour of duty. [Slight M.]


**A/N** : Just a little _Blindspot preseries_ fluff. :) Enjoy!

* * *

"Can I ask what you're doing?"

He turned around at the sound of her voice, surprised to see her awake. He thought she'd been dead asleep when he'd left bed. "What I'm doing?" He looked down at her beige t-shirt in his hands. He thought his actions to be fairly obvious on first glance. "I'm cleaning up. We left a mess."

"You're folding," she corrected, sounding amused. She propped her head up on a bent elbow, peering across the room at him with a laugh. "What are you folding for?"

"So the clothes don't get ruined by being crumpled on the floor all night," he answered, setting the folded t-shirt on the pile atop the table. She smiled when she saw what all was there.

"You're folding my uniform," she observed quietly, her voice warmed with something like awe.

"I am," he agreed quietly, walking over to pick up her jacket from its place half-tucked under the bed.

"It's an Army uniform," she reminded him.

"Doesn't mean it deserves to be left kicked under the bed all night."

"Yeah, but… I kinda like it kicked under the bed," she replied, and she grinned when he caught her eye with a smile. She waited until he was finished with her jacket, and had set it atop the pile, before she waved him over.

"Come back to bed," she called.

He took one last look around the room, deemed nothing out of the place, and then did as she asked. She pulled him close once he'd laid down, and kissed him long and slow. They could afford to take their time now, after how fast they'd gone before.

He was right in saying that they'd made a mess—they'd hardly gotten into the hotel room before they'd started pulling at each other's clothes, throwing garments every which way and even knocking over an end table on their haste to get to the bed. As it turned out, neither of them did well with long distance. Her assignment had been relatively short, only a couple months overseas, but in that time they'd built up enough repressed desire for each other it might as well have been a couple years.

"Thank you for all this," she whispered, breaking their kiss to speak. She rubbed her knuckles gently against his cheek. "And for earlier, O, thank you."

He smiled. "What, for folding your clothes? Are you that into domesticity?"

She shook her head, "For meeting me at the airport. Picking me up. You know you didn't have to."

"I wanted to," he replied simply. He didn't say anything about the fact that he knew no one else would be waiting for her. He didn't speak a word about how painful he knew it was for her, to see all her fellows being greeted excitedly by their loving families, while she stood off to the side with no one. He bent forward and kissed her again. "I wanted to be there for you," he whispered.

She smiled against his lips. "Only because you wanted this, surely," she teased, moving closer to him beneath the sheets.

"Finally getting laid may have been a factor, yes," he allowed.

"'A factor,'" she mocked, laughing as he rolled her over onto her back and spread her legs with a knee.

"A large factor," he permitted upon reflection.

"But how large?" she teased, pulling him to her with one hand while the other shoved the pillows out of the way so she could lie flat beneath him. "What size are we talking about here?"

"Oh, you tell me," he murmured, slipping in between her legs. "You tell me what size, baby."

She bit down on her lower lip, groaning softly as he pushed inside, her eyes closed in pleasure. "What size…" she murmured when she could let go of a breath and open her eyes. "Hm. I'd say medium-sized. Maybe on the small end. No, scratch that, definitely on the small end."

" _Hey_." He frowned down at her. "Show some respect, would you?"

"To what?" she laughed. "Your penis? Show my vagina some respect!"

"I have! I've been respecting it all night. Whereas you," he muttered darkly, lowering his mouth to her neck, "you have not respected me _once_."

"I just came back from a combat zone!"

"That's no excuse, freeloader."

"You're such an asshole," she complained, but it was with a laugh. She wrapped her arms around his back, and for a minute, they moved together in silence, as slow and relaxed as if this were an ordinary morning, and they were ordinary people.

"When do you have to leave?" she whispered, when she couldn't take wondering anymore.

"To get back in time?" He drew in a heavy breath, his chest expanding to meet hers. "Four-thirty, at least."

She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him tighter as she pressed her lips to his shoulder. She didn't know how far away four AM was, but she knew it was too soon. It was was always too soon when it came time for him to leave.

"I don't want you to go," she whispered against his skin, and he shushed her, stroking her hair as he kept up the slow, steady rhythm between them.

"No one's going anywhere just now," he whispered to her. "Not you and not me. Not for a while, understand? We don't have to worry about it for a while."

 _We'll have to worry about it soon,_ she thought, but she kept that to herself. He was right—this wasn't something to worry about now. When he was at the door, fully dressed, saying goodbye, then she could worry. But right now? No worry was needed right now.

Pushing away thoughts of leaving, she returned to the present moment and tugged on his left shoulder, signaling she wanted a change. He acquiesced at once, rolling onto his back and bringing her on top of him in one fluid movement. Once she was above him, she drew herself up, situating her knees comfortably on either side of his body, before sinking down on top of him. She listened with satisfaction to his hiss of approval as he sucked in a breath through his teeth, watching her as she took him in. She smiled down at his unblinking concentration, his need to capture every moment in memory before they were parted again.

"I know what you like," she murmured happily, dragging her hands down his chest. "I know just what you like."

He nodded in agreement, groaning as she adjusted, not having the breath for speech. His hands came up to cup her hips, to help her move as she braced her palms flat against his chest and shoulders for leverage. When she had a rhythm going, she lifted her hands from his chest and drew them up her body to the top of her head, where she swept her long dark hair up off her back and into the air. He cursed softly at the vision before him, his body jerking up into hers, his hands firm and possessive now.

One broke away from her hip and traveled up her middle. He could feel her quake beneath his light touch as it neared her chest.

"I know what you like, too," he whispered, his hand finding her breast and tugging lightly on the nipple, making her moan. He laid back and watched her, watched as she pushed herself into his hand, into his body, her movements becoming more erratic with increased stimulation.

She let go of her hair at one point, listening to him curse softly as it felt down around her shoulders in a heap, and placed her hand atop his to guide him from one breast to the other. He didn't need the help anymore, not after how long they'd been together, but the instinct for them to do everything in collaboration had not faded. They were partners in this, as they were partners in everything.

They drew it out as long as they could, but it was only a few minutes more before they both started to shake, their bodies twitching with the promise of orgasm almost arrived. Their breaths were coming in fast and hard now, their hands no longer gentle as they pulled and grabbed one another, and finally it all broke apart—she gasped in completion first, his deep groan followed, and then he was sitting up, still inside her, his arms wrapped around her back and held her close. He drew out those last few seconds, eeking out every last bit of happiness they could find during this one night alone together.

She let him sleep afterwards, as long as they could spare. But an hour and a half later it was four-fifteen, and she knew he had to get up now if he ever had a chance of getting out of here and back to the base on time.

He groaned when she shook him awake, muttering for five more minutes, five more seconds, begging her to please leave him be, but she pulled him out of bed by the arm.

"C'mon," she encouraged. "On your feet, Marine. Let's go."

"I don't want to go," he yawned, slouching so bad when he stood that he was nearly her height. "I want to stay here. Why can't we live in this hotel room forever?" he mumbled, leaning his weight heavily against her. "Sleep all day, have sex all night, order room service for every meal…"

She smiled, smacking his cheek lightly to wake him up. "Because life's not a fantasy," she reminded him, pushing him back so he would stand up straight. Her voice softened as she directed him towards the table that held his pile of folded clothes, right next to hers. "You gotta go now," she whispered, squeezing his shoulders. "Back where you belong, Marine."

"I don't belong there anymore," he whispered in what bit of protest he could manage, but he shrugged into his clothes dutifully anyway, pocketing his wallet and military ID, and leaving the hotel room key with her.

She followed him to the door, and hugged him long and hard before letting him so much as reach for the doorknob.

"You be safe," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to tuck her chin over his shoulder. "Watch your back for me, okay?"

"Always do," he whispered back. He wrapped one arm tightly around her back, and brushed his other hand gently through her hair. "And you come by soon, okay? When you can. Let me know how long you'll be stateside. We'll plan."

"For sex, right?" she teased, pulling back.

He cracked a smile, his exhausted eyes lighting up for the briefest moment. "Yes, just for that."

She stretched to her tiptoes again, pulling him down close for one last kiss. It was meant to be short, just the quickest goodbye, but it went on and on and it wasn't until her back was against the door and he had his hands in her hair again that she managed to remember, and break away.

"You gotta go home," she panted, holding him at bay with a hand on his chest. "You gotta go, O."

He shook his head, closing the space between them to rest his forehead against hers. "I can't. They're out to kill me. That place is no home for me, you know that. It's a lion's den. A viper pit."

"It's the best you've got," she whispered back. She squeezed his shoulders, hard. She hated that that was the only support she could offer him, but they had no time to get into this conversation right now. He had to get back to the base on time, or else questions would be asked. And once they started asking, they might not stop. "And it's just a little while more," she comforted him. "We almost have enough information, and once we do, you can leave and never look back. You've just gotta stick with it a little while longer, that's all."

He sighed, nodding. His head fell to her shoulder. "I will," he promised. He sucked in a deep breath, breathing her in. "I will," he whispered again, finally pulling back. "But just know: I'd rather be with you."

She nodded once, wanting to hug him again but not trusting herself to touch him one more time and still let him go afterwards. "I'd rather be with you, too," she whispered. Then she made herself open the door and he made himself walk out.


End file.
